واژهٔ امروز · word of the dayعشق/eshgh/love
5.0 ★ Preply
Persian With ElTabriz → Milano
اپAppBook a lesson
Persian With El
← All articles
Learn Persian·9 min read

Rumi in Farsi vs English: What the Translations Destroyed

Coleman Barks doesn't speak Farsi. Here are 3 famous Rumi quotes shown in the original Persian — word by word — revealing what the English translations changed, flattened, or invented.

Elyar Rose · الیار
Persian teacher · Milano · November 2026
سماور · the samovar, always on

Coleman Barks doesn't speak Farsi. That's the first thing you need to know about the Rumi in Farsi vs English problem. The man who made Rumi the best-selling poet in America. outselling Shakespeare, outselling Whitman, outselling every poet who ever wrote in English. created his "translations" by rewriting other people's literal translations into what he thought sounded good. He's never read a word of the original Persian.

I'm not saying Barks is a bad writer. His English poems are beautiful. But they're not Rumi. They're Coleman Barks poems inspired by the vague shape of something Rumi once said, filtered through two layers of translation and stripped of every Islamic, Sufi, and specifically Persian element that made the originals what they are.

I'm going to show you three famous "Rumi quotes". the ones on the mugs, the yoga studio walls, the Instagram bios. and put them next to what the original Farsi actually says. The differences aren't subtle. They're devastating.

The Rumi You Know Doesn't Exist

Here's how the pipeline works. Rumi wrote in 13th-century Persian. In the 19th century, scholars like Reynold Nicholson and A.J. Arberry made literal English translations. clunky, academic, but accurate. In the 1990s, Coleman Barks took those literal translations and "poetically rendered" them. removing references to Islam, the Quran, the Prophet Muhammad, Sufi theology, and anything else he felt would alienate Western readers.

What's left is a kind of spiritual self-help poetry that reads like a 21st-century meditation app. It's comforting, vague, and universal. which is exactly the problem. Rumi wasn't vague. He was specific. He was a Muslim mystic writing about the path to God through love and self-annihilation. Taking the Islam out of Rumi is like taking the Christianity out of Bach. you can enjoy the music, but you've gutted the meaning.

Iranians find this baffling. In Iran, Rumi is called Mowlânâ (مولانا. Mowlânâ. "our master") and he's a towering figure in Islamic mystical tradition. When they encounter the Western Instagram Rumi. all love and light with no theology. they don't recognize him.

Quote 1: "Out Beyond Ideas of Wrongdoing and Rightness..."

The English version (Barks)

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightness, there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about."

Beautiful. Sounds like a wedding reading at a progressive ceremony in Portland. Now let's see the Farsi.

The Farsi original

از کفر و از اسلام برون صحرایی‌ست
Az kofr o az eslâm borun sahrâyi-st

ما را به میان آن فضا سودایی‌ست
Mâ râ be miyân-e ân fazâ sowdâyi-st

عارف چو بدان رسید سر می‌نهد
Âref chu bedân resid sar mineahad

نه کفر و نه اسلام و نه دنیا جایی‌ست
Na kofr o na eslâm o na donyâ jâyi-st

What it actually says

"Beyond کفر (kofr. disbelief/heresy) and beyond اسلام (eslâm. Islam), there is a desert plain. We have a passion for the middle of that space. The mystic, when they arrive there, lays down their head. There is neither disbelief, nor Islam, nor any place of the world."

What Barks changed

The Farsi says کفر و اسلام. "disbelief and Islam." Not "wrongdoing and rightness." Rumi is specifically talking about going beyond religious categories. not beyond vague moral concepts. The "field" in the English is a صحرا (sahrâ). a desert, a barren plain. Not a meadow where the soul lies in grass. And the "mystic" (عارف. âref) who arrives there doesn't simply lie down. they surrender. The word سودا (sowdâ) means obsession, madness, a burning desire. not a gentle meeting.

Barks turned a radical Sufi statement about transcending religion itself into a nice greeting card about being open-minded. Same shape. Completely different meaning.

Quote 2: "The Wound Is the Place Where the Light Enters You"

The English version (Barks)

"The wound is the place where the light enters you."

Tattoo-ready. Therapist-approved. Now the Farsi.

The Farsi original

از روزنه زخم تو نوری بتابد
Az rowzane-ye zakhm-e to nuri betâbad

What it actually says

"From the روزنه (rowzane. window/opening) of your wound, a light shines forth."

The difference

Subtle but important. The Farsi uses روزنه. a window, an opening, a crack. It's architectural, specific. The wound creates a literal opening in your structure. And the light بتابد (betâbad). "shines" or "radiates". it's active, not passive. The light doesn't just enter; it shines outward through the break.

The Barks version makes you the passive recipient of light. The Farsi makes the wound a source of illumination. You're not being healed from outside. you're becoming a source of light through your own breaking. In Sufi theology, this connects to the concept of فنا (fanâ). ego-annihilation. You have to break before the divine can shine through.

Quote 3: "What You Seek Is Seeking You"

The English version (Barks)

"What you seek is seeking you."

LinkedIn motivational content. Manifestation culture gold. The Farsi is doing something different.

The Farsi original

آنچه در پی اویی، او نیز در پی توست
Ânche dar pey-e u-yi, u niz dar pey-e tost

What it actually says

"That which you are pursuing (در پی. dar pey. following behind, tracking). it, too, is pursuing you."

The difference

The English version sounds like a promise that your dreams will come to you. Sit back, relax, the universe has a plan. The Farsi is more unsettling. در پی (dar pey) means to follow in someone's footsteps, to track, to chase. It's active and slightly predatory. What you're chasing is also chasing you. which is beautiful if you're seeking God, but terrifying if you think about it from the other direction. What if the thing pursuing you isn't what you wanted?

In Sufi context, Rumi means that the divine is actively seeking the seeker. It's not passive attraction. it's mutual pursuit. The lover runs toward God; God runs toward the lover. The English flattens this into a self-help bumper sticker. The Farsi is a statement about the nature of divine love that operates on a completely different level.

Why the Sufi Context Matters

Every Rumi poem exists inside Sufi Islam. Strip that out and you get Instagram quotes. Keep it in and you get one of the most radical mystical poets in human history.

Rumi's central concept is عشق ('eshq). a word that doesn't translate as English "love". 'Eshq is the force that drives creation itself. It's not romantic love, though it includes that. It's not divine love, though it includes that too. It's the magnetic pull between the soul and its source. the same force that makes the reed flute cry when it's cut from the reed bed (Rumi's most famous metaphor from the opening of the Masnavi).

When English translations replace 'eshq with "love," they collapse an entire philosophical system into a four-letter word that Americans use for pizza, dogs, and Netflix shows. Rumi's 'eshq destroys you. It annihilates your ego (فنا. fanâ). It leaves you بیچاره (bichâre. helpless, wretched) and دیوانه (divâne. mad). That's not a feeling you get from a scented candle.

The Episode 3 breakdown of "Bâz Â" shows this in action. the famous "come, come" poem uses words like کافر (kâfer. infidel) and بت‌پرست (bot-parast. idol-worshipper) that English translations systematically replace with softer alternatives.

What You Gain by Reading Rumi in Persian

Reading Rumi in the original gives you three things no translation can:

The actual vocabulary. Words like نی (ney. reed flute), سماع (samâ'. Sufi whirling/listening), فنا (fanâ. ego-annihilation), and وصل (vasl. union) carry specific meanings that English approximations destroy. When you learn these words, you're learning the operating system of Persian thought itself.

The sound. Persian poetry has built-in music. The metre, the rhyme, the internal echoes. these create an emotional effect that exists only in Farsi. Reading Rumi in English is like reading song lyrics without the melody. The words are there but the experience isn't.

The unfiltered message. Rumi was radical. He challenged religious authority, embraced madness as a spiritual path, and wrote about a love so intense it looks like insanity from the outside. The English versions sand down every sharp edge. The Farsi originals cut.

The Episode 8 breakdown of "Morde Bodam, Zende Shodam". "I was dead, I came alive". is a perfect example. Every couplet uses the same grammatical pattern (past participle + shodam), making it one of the best poems for learners. And the Episode 17 deep dive on the Divan-e Shams goes into Rumi's most intense love poetry.

If you want to start learning the original vocabulary instead of the translation, ZabanYar teaches every word with its poetic and cultural context. not just the dictionary definition.

For the bigger picture of why Persian poetry matters for language learners, start at the hub post.

FAQ

Does Coleman Barks speak Farsi?

No. Coleman Barks does not speak, read, or understand Persian/Farsi. He created his "translations" by reworking earlier literal translations by scholars like Reynold Nicholson and A.J. Arberry. His versions are poetic reinterpretations, not direct translations from the original Persian text.

What do Iranians think of Western Rumi translations?

Most Iranians find Western Rumi translations unrecognizable. The removal of Islamic references, Sufi terminology, and specific Persian cultural context turns Rumi into a generic spiritual figure that bears little resemblance to the Mowlânâ they grew up with. Many view it as a form of cultural flattening.

Why do Iranians call Rumi "Mowlânâ" instead of "Rumi"?

In Iran, he's known as Mowlânâ (مولانا. "our master") or Mowlavi (مولوی). "Rumi" comes from "Rum," meaning Anatolia/Turkey where he lived. Most Iranians don't use the name "Rumi" in conversation. Calling him Mowlânâ when speaking with Iranians shows cultural awareness and earns immediate respect.

Can I learn Farsi vocabulary from Rumi's original poems?

Absolutely. Rumi used relatively simple vocabulary. words like del (heart), 'eshq (love), ney (reed), âtash (fire), and divâne (mad) that are still common in modern spoken Farsi. His poems are excellent vocabulary sources because the repeated patterns and clear imagery make words memorable.

What is the best accurate English translation of Rumi?

For accuracy, Jawid Mojaddedi's verse translation of the Masnavi (Oxford World's Classics) preserves both the rhyme structure and the Islamic/Sufi content. For the Divan-e Shams, Franklin Lewis's "Rumi: Past and Present, East and West" includes faithful translations with extensive context. Avoid versions that remove all religious references.

Want to read Rumi in the original Farsi, with vocabulary help and line-by-line breakdowns? Head to our Persian Poetry for Learners collection.

◆ Try it — the way I’d run it in a lesson
Role-play: the taxi.

I play the driver, you play yourself. I’ll wave you off — قابل نداره. Your job is not to believe me. Insist, twice, with a smile:

خواهش می‌کنم، بفرماییدkhâhesh mikonam, befarmâyid“please, I insist”
نه، اینطوری نمی‌شهna, intori nemishe“no, this won’t do”
We run it three times, then swap roles. By lesson’s end you’ll taarof without thinking — slang, tone, and all.

Get it wrong and the worst that happens is a warm laugh and a story they’ll tell for years. Get it right — refuse the tea twice, accept on the third — and you’ll watch a face open up. You didn’t just speak Persian. You played the game.

Elyar Rose · الیار

A teacher from Tabriz, based in Milano. 5.0 on Preply across 42 reviews, 1,100+ lessons taught. He curates the growing dictionary behind this site.

Book a lesson →
Keep reading
CultureChâi, qand, and staying a while6 min readWordsMehr: sun, love, and a seal5 min readScriptYour first Persian letter5 min read